Page 62 of Forever Defiant
Silence. Heavy and sharp. Icy around the edges. This conversation was already a mistake. That didn’t mean I was stopping. I could hear Dante telling me to warn her to be careful. We weren’t asking her to stop. Were we?
Fuck, I no longer knew what the fucking play was.
I stepped back. “Mike told me you asked about Mason Sterling.”
Her breath hitched. Bingo.
“How do you know that name?” she whispered.
“I wish I didn’t,” I said, and I meant it.
She looked at me then — really looked — and something in her expression changed. Softened. Hardened. Both at once.
“Tell me.” She wasn’t begging or demanding. Just steady. “Tell me what you know.”
God, I was so tired of this; it was taking over everything. I decided to risk it.
I adjusted my ballcap, pulling it lower. “You can’t tell anyone I told you this.”
She smirked. “Off the record, got it.”
I gave her a flat look, and she grinned back. Good God, she was a handful. “I mean it, Peterson, this isn’t just about me.”
When she saw I was serious, she lost her attitude and nodded slowly. “Tell me what you know, I’ll tell you what I know, and then we can see where we go from there.”
“Wego nowhere,” I snapped, instantly regretting it when her defenses shot back up. “This is hard because you won’t listen.”
She waited, eyebrows raised.
“This is a D1 school,” I started, but saw the flat look, and gave her an exasperated one of my own. “The athletic program is hard.”
She didn’t blink.
“Knock it off,” I bitched. “You’ve seen our schedule. That’s the offseason. During the season, it’s fucking insanity.” I waited until she gave a reluctant nod. “This program doesn’tlose,” I stressed. “Not players. Not staff. Not money. When something threatens that—”
“What do you mean?”
“It gets handled.”
Her mouth tightened. “Handled how?”
“Quietly.” I held her gaze. “Some players get help, but still needhelp.” I gave her a meaningful look.
Hadley’s eyes widened when I didn’t keep going. “You’re talking about academic favors?” she scoffed. “That’s not news. That’s barely even—”
“Will you just shut up?” I snapped. “God, you’re so fucking impatient.”
“You were stalling.”
No, I was surprised that everyone except the athletic department seemed to know we got help to stay eligible. This was clearly the worst-kept secret in the school. Or maybe it wasn’t a secret?
“Slater, I’m waiting.”
I fixed her with a glare that made her back up a step, and she bumped into the wall behind her.
I took a step closer, my palm flat against the building. I leaned down to her, the bill of my cap knocking into her forehead. I turned it around impatiently.
“Will youpleasestop being so fucking impatient?” I muttered. “You’ll listen,” I told her. “And you won’t interrupt again.”
